


Night Shift

by rowofstars



Series: 31 Days of Fandomas 2019 [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 31 Days of Fandomas 2019, Angst, Arguing, Attempted Sexual Assault, Cane of Feelings - Freeform, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Flashbacks, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Love Confessions, Past Relationship(s), Rough Kissing, Smut, Swearing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:04:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21688606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/pseuds/rowofstars
Summary: You got a nine to five, so I'll take the night shift, and I'll never see you again if I can help it.
Relationships: Lacey/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Series: 31 Days of Fandomas 2019 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561927
Comments: 78
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by one of my favorite Golden Lace-centric songs [Night Shift by Lucy Dacus.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0WDZdT04ls4) I have been wanting to write this fic forever and here we go. (Let's be real, I am easy and will probably write more of this if prompted.) For the 31 Days prompt #5: Rings.

The rings shone in the fading afternoon light, diamonds and gemstones casting a glitter of tiny rainbows across the black velvet of the jewelry case.

Gold gave the glass one last swipe with a rag and sighed. A few minutes later, he turned the key in the lock and then pulled it free, rattling the bell on the other side as the door to the pawn shop shuddered on its hinges. He slipped the key into the pocket of his wool overcoat and turned to glare up at the darkening sky. The days seemed so short this time of year, and while he wasn’t one to be all that affected by the change in seasons, he wasn’t much of a fan of winter. Snow and ice was treacherous when one walked with a cane, and the ceaseless onslaught of holiday after holiday became more irritating with every year that passed.

He pulled his scarf up higher on either side of his neck, feeling the leather of his gloves pull tight where it caught on the ring he flatly refused to take off, and walked the short distance to the corner where his black Cadillac was parked. Every morning at nine, he opened the pawn shop on Main Street, just a block down and across the road from Granny’s Diner, and every evening at five he closed it. He went home to a large salmon colored Victorian house on Morning Glory Lane, made himself something for dinner, and finished the night with a glass of scotch, the accounting ledgers from his shop, and the drone of the television on in the background.

His life was order and routine, and had been so for nearly every year since he’d moved to the small town of Storybrooke, Maine. The only exception had been the short time when he’d dared to let one other single human being into his existence. But that had ended rather abruptly and spectacularly, to the surprise of no one who had ever known him. He was a difficult man to love, to say the least, and one needed only to ask his son in order to confirm the truth of what a bastard he could be.

He reached for the door handle of the car, and then stopped, rolling his head back and huffing out a breath as his arm dropped to his side. His car keys were still sitting on the desk in the back room of the shop. Sighing again, he pivoted on his heel and started to walk back to the door of the shop, already fishing the key to the deadbolt out of his coat pocket.

A flash of something caught his attention and he paused to look across the street, the breath rushing out of him as a lump rose up in his throat.

* * *

The red open sign flickered and flashed before holding steady once more, the victim of a slight dip in power as the large toaster oven in the kitchen was turned up to high.

Lacey shoved her hands further into her pockets and shivered as the wind bit at her bare skin and swept up under the skirt of her uniform. Her heels clomped loudly against the pavement, echoing across the nearly empty street. In less than an hour the diner would be bustling and warm, and she would be longing for the chilly breeze outside to soothe her sticky, sweaty neck.

Her life had been boring and predictable, the same endless drudge of waiting tables, cleaning her apartment, and drinking her tips away the Rabbit Hole. There wasn’t much else to do in Storybrooke, which is why she’d always hated it, but even when she managed to save up some money, it wasn’t enough to move anywhere better. Big cities were expensive, and she had nothing but a string of minimum wage, bottom rung jobs to put on a resume. Things had been better for a little while, once upon a time, when she’d had someone who she thought respected and valued her, saw more in her than a diner waitress and a weekend pool hustler.

But that had been a joke.

She used to work the morning shift at Granny’s, sometimes opening the place and getting the baking and coffee started for breakfast. There was a satisfaction in getting up early and seeing many of the townsfolk well fed before they went off to work. It was a happier time, a simpler time, and time when she’d taken chances and let someone get close. Too close.

She should have known better really, dating out of her league, if one could even call it that. It was more like intermittent fucking and occasional movie watching, like a string of evenings of Netflix and chill in hindsight. Then there had been her father and her history and the same old shit that always seemed to get in the way. Lacey French didn’t get to have nice things.

She didn’t want to see those early morning people anymore, especially the one who had broken her heart. Now she worked the night shift, of sorts, five-thirty to close almost every night. Her life was back to boring and predictable, with the same struggle to put aside a little stash and maybe break away someday, all done under the cover of darkness where it felt easier to hide.

Twisting on her heel, Lacey blew out a breath and watched it fog in the chilly air, floating upwards like smoke from a chimney. She reached up and touched the chain that dangled down between her breasts, sliding it back and forth through the ring that hung at the end of it. It was nearly time for her shift to start, but she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye that made her stop.

* * *

Gold swallowed hard and curled his gloved hand into a fist inside his pocket as the other gripped his cane hard.

Her hair fluttered in the bitter wind, tossed out behind her in a mass of dark waves over her red leather jacket. He could see them in his mind’s eye spread out on the pillow, his fingers pulling at them as she said his name over and over. She was so beautiful, then and now, but he’d fucked it all up, just like he knew he would. She deserved better than the likes of him, better than a beast of an old man. Someday he hoped she’d finally move on from this dead end town, and from him, even though he’d never move on from her.

After another moment, he sighed and turned away to unlock the door. 

* * *

Lacey pushed her hair back out of her face and fought the urge to scurry inside the diner.

She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her give in to embarrassment first. The wind moved his coat around his legs and she saw him shift his weight from one foot to the other, bracing hard on his cane. It was too easy to recall the way the cool wood and metal had felt against her, how he’d teased her relentlessly, and how the pleasure that overtook them stole her breath away with the intensity of it. They could have had it all if only they’d been better people.

He finally looked away, and she sniffled loudly, the ring bouncing against her skin as she stepped into the diner.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Am I a masochist, resisting urges to punch you in the teeth? Call you a bitch and leave?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well of course this is a thing. I'm sorry I'm like this. I have no idea what I'm doing. For the 31 Days prompt #6: cider.

Gold didn’t know what had possessed him to walk into Granny’s Diner at eight-thirty on a Thursday night in December.

For the past two weeks he’d been lingering in the shop later and later. At five he would flip the sign to closed, and turn off the lights in the front, his car parked in the back alley instead of on the corner out front. 

With near perfect regularity, Lacey would come walking down the opposite side of the street at five fifteen. She wouldn’t stop, as she had done that night when they’d looked across the street, seeing each other for the first time in a year and a half. She would walk straight into the diner, without so much as a glance cast in his direction, and start her shift exactly on time.

He knew because he watched. He stood like a besotted fool, in the dark, in the front of his shop, looking through the window blinds. It was almost a surprise to see her given how long it had been. Before that, he’d begun to wonder if she had left town entirely, but he was fairly certain if she had that information would have made it back to him.

At some point, he started contemplating what might happen if he went over there, into the diner, and ordered a cheeseburger with extra pickles as if there was nothing out of the ordinary. As if her blue blouse wasn’t still buried in a laundry basket at his house, unforgotten, but patently ignored. As if nothing of note had ever happened between them.

Somehow contemplating had turned into acting, and in a fugue state, as if he was outside his own body, he marched across the street.

* * *

The diner was nominally busy for a snowy weeknight, but Lacey was stuck working by herself while Ariel was getting over a rather nasty case of bronchitis.

Granny was in the back, putting together pans of her famous lasagna and prepping for the inevitable holiday pie orders that would start coming in the days before Christmas. The holidays were something Lacey was fiercely ignoring this year, both because her father was a drunken jerk any time he had a day off, and because she didn’t want to remind herself of how much better things were when you had someone in your life that you cared about.

She spun around behind the counter and hung two tickets on the rack, shouting to Billy, the cook, not to put too much mayo on Sheriff Graham’s club sandwich. The ring at the end of her necklace moved beneath her white blouse, tapping gently against her fair skin. She didn’t know why she bothered to wear it anymore, but it felt strange when it wasn’t there, so she kept up the routine and tucked it down where no one could see it.

There was a shift in the din of the room, and she turned around, gasping softly when she saw him standing by the door.

* * *

Gold’s jaw tensed, and he tipped his head up, shaking the flakes of snow from his hair.

He strode over to his usual table, in the corner by the window, took off his coat, and sat down. His cane leaned against the booth, and he picked up the menu as if he suddenly needed to study it despite almost two decades of coming here. After a few minutes, he set it down and looked up. Lacey was standing behind the counter, staring at him, and he straightened in his seat. There were two orders on the ledge behind her waiting to be delivered to their tables, but she didn’t move until Billy shouted at her.

Gold watched as she picked them up and took them over to Mary Margaret and David Nolan, who in turn twisted in their chairs to give him a strange look. He bristled a little at that, annoyed that what he was doing was being so closely observed. When Lacey didn’t come over, he almost got up and left, but he was here and he wanted to see how she might behave.

If she completely ignored him, then he’d have the answer to the question he refused to ask, and he would go back to never seeing her again.

“Can I get some service?” he said finally, raising his voice just enough that he knew Lacey could hear him.

She visibly sighed, and ran a hand through her hair, then pulled her pad out of her apron pocket.

“Apologies, Mr. Gold,” she said flatly, giving him neither a false smile nor a scowl. Her face betrayed no outward sign of emotion at all. “What can I get you?”

He looked up at her, startled by how close she was just standing by the table. Her eyes were fixed on the order pad, pen poised to start writing as soon as he spoke his order.

“Hot cider, please.” Then he swallowed. “And some apple crisp.”

She bit her lip and noted his requests. “A la mode or regular?”

He sighed and his voice softened. “I think you know the answer.”

Lacey gave him a stern look and repeated her question.

His eyes narrowed. “Did you forget everything about me, Lacey?”

Abruptly, she tucked the pad back in her apron, and gave him the briefest look, her eyes making contact for no more than a second. “It will be out in five minutes.”

* * *

Lacey hurried back behind the counter and went over to the coffee maker, clenching her hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

As they did every winter, they’d replaced one of the large percolators with a heated pot of spiced apple cider as soon as the first snow had fallen. Before, coming in for two mugs of cider and a shared bowl of warm apple crisp topped with vanilla ice cream had been a regular occurrence for them. Now, here he was, the bastard, invading her sanctuary, asking if she had forgotten everything she knew about him - as if that was possible - and ruining one of the few things she still liked about the season.

She huffed out a breath and filled one of the mugs with cider. The steam rose up and the pleasing scent of spices wafted passed her nose as she moved to retrieve one of the pans of apple crisp from the pie cooler. She shut the lid just a little too hard on it, her frustration breaking through the calm, unaffected facade she’d put on. Her jaw tensed, her teeth grinding in anger as she felt Gold’s smug gaze following her every movement as she prepared his order.

_How fucking dare he._

After warming the crisp in a bowl in the toaster oven and finishing it off with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, she set everything on a tray and resolved to not let him get the best of her.

* * *

Gold’s fingers drummed softly on the table until Lacey came back with his order.

His stomach wasn’t the least bit hungry, and the smell of cinnamon and apples was as unappealing as week old chicken salad. He looked up, and a second later a searing heat spread over his thigh sending a sharp stab of pain through his leg. A cry wrenched itself from his throat and he pushed back from the table, standing up so quickly he knocked his cane to the floor. He stumbled to the side, catching himself on a chair, and looked down.

The right side of his trousers were covered in a splatter of hot cider that could have only come from one source. His eyes met Lacey’s, and he snarled at her.

“_What the fuck?_”

* * *

Lacey’s mouth hung open and her eyes went wide.

She had thought about walking over and dumping the hot cider right in his lap as she was loading up the tray, but apparently she’d actually gone and done it. The liquid wasn’t scalding hot, thought it must have hurt a fair bit to make him cry out that way, but she hoped that was more surprise than pain. 

“_What the fuck?_”

The look on his face was a combination of confusion and rage, a look she’d only seen once before when he was beating Keith Nott senseless, and it made her take a step back.

Gold came towards her, limping heavily without his cane, and wincing. “You could have burned me!”

He opened his mouth to say something more, but at that moment Granny came out from the kitchen.

“The hell’s going on here, Gold?”

Lacey spun around, her face red with shame. “I can explain -”

“Nothing’s going on, Martha,” he said, stepping forward and raising a hand. “It was just an accident. My fault entirely.”

Martha Lucas put her hands on her hips and eyed Gold steadily. He never admitted fault, much less in a public place, and Lacey was sure she was going to be fired. Granny Lucas had given her a lot of leeway over the years, but this was the kind of thing Gold was likely to take out on both of them by raising the rent or having the city reassess the property taxes on the inn.

Granny didn’t seem to believe Gold, but there wasn’t enough evidence to prove otherwise, so she huffed and admonished Lacey to clean up the mess immediately.

Lacey exhaled in momentary relief, and went to get a rag. When she turned around again, Gold was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now bite your tongue, it's too dangerous to fall so young. Take back what you said, can't lose what you never had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several people wanted a flashback, so here is one from happier times. Please note the rating change and the additional tags and warnings. For the 31 Days prompt #8: red.

Lacey’s red dress swished around her knees as she walked.

She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket and shivered, the wind biting at her bare legs and toes where they peeked through her sparkly, open toe heels. Initially, she hadn’t planned on going to Granny’s annual holiday party, but after the incident with Gold and the cider, she’d gone home and had a good cry, deciding that she wasn’t going to let the bastard ruin what little joy she still found in the holiday season. Granny’s party was always a good time, and the one night during the year where wearing her uniform to work was frowned upon. She might have chosen something a little more formal than necessary, but she really liked this dress.

It was a red velvet cocktail dress with a halter strap that went behind her neck and was finished with a satin bow that buttoned instead of tied, ensuring no accidental wardrobe malfunctions. The fabric crossed in the front, right over her chest, in a deep V, which paired well with her one and only push-up bra, and made her look like she had a lot more cleavage than she really did. She’d bought it a couple of years ago for another party, and only wore it once, which was criminal since she knew she looked fantastic in it.

Gold had certainly thought so at the time.

He’d been invited to a Christmas party given by a business contact in Boston and invited her along. They had only just started to be a thing, and a weekend in a big city, staying in a posh hotel room sounded heavenly. It had been, at the time, and looking back it had also been a real turning point in their relationship. After that, everything felt much more serious, or so she thought, and it wasn’t long before she was staying over at his house and sitting in his kitchen in nothing but his shirt, sipping wine while he made dinner.

She’d bought the dress just for that trip, spending way more than she would have normally, even dipping into her reserve fund to get shoes to go with it. He’d been suitably impressed when she came out of the bedroom, all sparkles and velvet with lace underneath. The entire party had been foreplay, and the memory made her stop and close her eyes as she sucked in a breath through her nose.

A moment later, Leroy called out a greeting to her, and Lacey shook her head, making her mess of brunette curls sway against her shoulders. She waved to Leroy, and then plastered on a wide smile as she pushed open the door to the diner.

* * *

_December 2017_

Lacey let out a small sigh as she leaned over and set her wine glass down on a nearby table. 

The low neck of her dress afforded Gold a very tempting view from a few feet away, and he let his gaze drop for just a second before it snapped back up to hers like a magnet. Her lips curved, and there was no mistaking the the way her eyes darkened, igniting a low heat in his stomach. His tongue darted out to wet his mouth, and she crossed her legs together, sliding the sheer black stockings over each other, the delicate crystals set in them shimmering in the yellow glow of the dining room.

Gold finished off the rest of his scotch, and politely ended his conversation with Abe Midas, senior partner at the law firm throwing the party, and a man whom Gold had worked with for many years when he lived in the city. He turned around, frowning when he saw the table where Lacey had been was empty, but like a moth drawn to the fucking flame, he found her all the way across the room, standing by a side door. She made a small come hither gesture, then slipped through the door toward the back hallway off the hotel’s large banquet room. It took him several minutes of annoying hellos and how are yous as he tried to follow after her, and by the time he reached the door he was ready to take his cane to the next person to interrupted him.

He cleared his throat as he came through the door, just in case, but Lacey was there waiting for him, leaning against the wall in what seemed to be a rather secluded corridor. The din of the party was muted, making it feel as though they were truly alone, and he stepped closer

"What took you so long?" she asked, her speech just a little bit breathless as he trapped her between his body and the wall.

"All these bloody lawyers," he replied with a roll of his eyes.

She laughed lightly, trailing the tip of her index finger down his tie to where his suit jacket was buttoned. Then she hooked her finger over the fabric and pulled him closer, tipping her face up to brush her mouth against his.

“You looked like you needed a break from them.”

He smiled crookedly and nodded, bumping his nose into hers. “I did, thank you.”

She flicked her tongue over her bottom lip, and the motion is like a flint to stone, sparking something inside of him. He captured her mouth, kissing her hard and deep as he pushed her back against the wall. One hand goes to her hip, and hers wound around his neck, sighing into his mouth as her lips parted to invite him in.

Gold pulled back reluctantly. "We should probably not do this here." His voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat again.

Lacey touched her hands to either side of his face. Her lips were pink and already a bit swollen as she grinned. "Why not?"

_Because there’s people on the other side of this wall._

_Because we could get caught._

_Because I’m bloody in love with you._

He said none of it and kissed her again. Her hands slid around his neck, her nails scraping against his nape, and a shiver ran down his spine, which she must have felt because she did it again and again. He tilted his head, sealing his mouth more firmly over hers, tongue dipping inside as she met him halfway with a soft, throaty moan. His hand skinmed down to squeeze her backside, and she arched her spine with a gasp as he pinned her in place with his lower body. Their hips met, and the sound that she made sent all his blood rushing down as stars danced across the inside of his eyelids, and his pulse thrummed with how badly he wanted her.

There's a new sense of urgency underscoring his need to learn for her, from the way she tasted to the feel of her skin, to how perfectly her body seemed to fit with his. _Fuck,_ they should have skipped the party and never left the room.

His hand was under her dress before he knew it, pushing aside thin, damp silk to sample her wetness and pull a strangled noise from her throat. He leaned his forehead against hers, breathing heavy and fast as he pushed a finger inside her where she was hot and tight and already clenching around him.

“God, Lacey,” he gasped, feeling a thrill of pleasure wash over him as he added a second finger. 

He watched her with a half-lidded gaze, drinking in the soft gasp that she made, and the way her lashes fluttered shut as her mouth forms around a small, strained _oh._ He pulled nearly all the way out just to feel her pussy tense as his fingers entered her again, and she rocked her hips forward until he was as deep inside her as possible. She snuck a hand down between them and ran her palm against the hard ridge of his cock where it throbbed against the front of his trousers, making him groan. Their mouths fell back together, the kiss half breaking apart from the weight of each hitch in their breathing.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped, her head moving and knocking lightly against his.

“Can’t wait to fuck you, Lacey. I’ll make you come so hard, sweetheart, until you beg me stop.” She whimpered at that, and he nipped her puffy bottom lip. “And then I’ll wring one more out of you.”

He built a steady rhythm with her, thrusting his hips into her hand at the same time as he pressed up inside her, until they were both rutting against each other in earnest. For a long moment, there was nothing but Lacey, her quietly stifled moans in his ear, and the tickle of her hair where it brushed against his cheek until a telltale warmth bloomed deep down. He slowed just long enough to shift his hand and rub into her clit, the nub of it swollen and deliciously sensitive, making her whole body twitch like a live wire when he moved his thumb over it in tight, rough circles. 

He couldn’t wait to get her upstairs and into a bed and make good on his promise, to make the whole room smell of sex and her perfume. She keened and threw an arm out against the wall for purchase, her nails scratching the wallpaper as she came hard. After she came down and her breathing returned to near normal, he wiped his hand off his pocket square and tucked it in his jacket.

“Had enough small talk and hors d'oeuvres for one night?” she asked, looking up at him through her lashes as she reached for his belt.

She gave it a small tug, and his eyelids fluttered, closing briefly as he felt his cock pulse with need. “Yes,” he managed. “I think I’m ready for the main course now.”

* * *

Gold’s hand tightened around the handle of his cane as he watched Lacey enter Granny’s diner.

All he had to see was the dark red peeking out beneath her coat to know what she was wearing, and to remember what it was like to strip it off of her and make her scream. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, swearing he could still smell her scent on him in that back hallway outside the hotel banquet room.

A week ago, he’d made the regrettable choice to confront her and ended up with a lap full of hot cider, though it only did damage to his trousers. There’d been a general stickiness he had to shower off his legs, but on the whole he figured he rather deserved all that and more. He could have opened with an apology, probably should have over a year ago when they’d first had their falling out, but always was obnoxiously stubborn in that regard, never doing what was best for him, particularly when his defenses were up. His first reaction was always to lash out, to tear down the other person and make them cease to be a threat, except all that had managed to do was strain his relationship with his son and completely alienate the woman he loved.

Gold swallowed against the thick lump in his throat and let his head drop.

He still loved her. 

And that, he supposed, was a fitting punishment, being forced to carry around all the feelings and memories, unable to do anything with them, or exorcise them from his heart. He’d tried after all, tried hating her, tried forgetting her, but it was all in vain. She seemed to have forgotten him just fine, after switching her life around specifically to avoid him. How she’d managed it so well in a town of less than five thousand people he’d never know, but then again he was quite the predictable homebody, so he supposed it wasn’t all that difficult. But now that he knew where she was and what she was doing, now that he could see her every day from a distance, it was like salt in the wound.

He exhaled and looked up again, staring through the shop window at the lights across the street, the warm glow of Granny’s party like a beacon through the snowy night, advertising food and fellowship and terrible Christmas music. There’d been a moment when he was with Lacey where he thought he could have that kind of life, but he’d bitterly thrown it all away. Somewhere along the line, his life had become a prison of his own making, and no matter how much he piled his beloved things up around him there was no comfort in it anymore.

Sighing heavily, he turned away from the window and pulled on his coat. The night air was bitterly cold, and the snow had changed from light flurries blown about by the slightest wind, into wet, heavy flakes that were quickly covering every surface. He scowled as he walked to his car, slower than usual to avoid any icy patches, but a sound caught his attention.

Across the street, Lacey came stumbling out of the side door of Granny’s into the alley by the dumpsters, and he watched as a tall figure followed after her. His eyes narrowed when he realized it was that scumbag Keith Nott, and his lips curled back to reveal a flash of teeth as he took a step into the street. Keith appeared to give Lacey a push, and then said something Gold couldn’t make out. A moment later, the two were in shadow, and a few seconds after that he heard Lacey cry out.

* * *

Lacey pressed her hands to Keith’s chest and pushed hard, but the lumbering idiot wouldn’t budge.

“Keith,” she said loud and firm, “I said _no,_ now get _off me!_”

Keith sneered down at her and held her against the wall. “Come on, baby, why else did you come out here?”

“To get away from _you!_” she spat.

He leaned in, bringing his stomach turning beer breath close, and she turned her face away with a wince. A second later, the pressure on her shoulders was gone, so was the smell of Keith, and she could feel a sharp, cold rush of air against her.

She blinked, and then gasped as she saw Keith curled up on the pavement, held there by something pressing into his side.

“I believe,” came Gold’s voice, as he stepped out of the shadows and pushed the end of his cane harder against Keith’s ribs, “that the lady said no.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don't deserve what you don't respect, don't deserve what you say you love and then neglect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so overdue. Also the angst is kind of peaking with this chapter. Please note the updated tags, particularly the "Attempted Sexual Assault" which is really just Keith being an asshole, and the "Implied/Referenced Self-harm" it's really blink and you'll miss it at the end, but I wanted to be cautious and add it just in case. For the 31 Days prompt #18: coal.

Keith Nott groaned as he rolled over, spitting blood onto the wet pavement.

It mixed in a small patch of snow, making it look all the more obscene. Gold sneered down at him and raised his cane, ready to strike again as Keith started mumbling pleas for him to stop.

“Perhaps you should take your own advice,” Gold said, his fingers turning white as he squeezed the length of the cane harder, “and stop when someone says no!”

He brought the handle of the cane down again, landing on Keith’s shoulder with a sickening crack, and was about to do so again, when Lacey suddenly stepped in front of him. He staggered back and caught himself on the edge of the dumpster as his heart thudded against his ribs.

“Stop it!”

Her eyes were wide and wild, her face was flushed, and a wisp of her hair was stuck in her red lipstick. Gold’s mouth hung open, panting for breath as he stared at her. She was furious and stunning all at once, and, abruptly, the gravity of what had happened crashed down on him.

Keith made a noise, and pushed to his knees. “Fuck you, Gold.”

Gold looked at Keith dumbly as Lacey kicked at him with her right foot, missing completely in her effort not to lose her shoe.

“Get out of here, Keith,” she ordered, pushing at him with her toes. “Go crawl in a hole somewhere.”

Keith looked between the two of them, and, recognizing his only opportunity to escape, scrambled to his feet and ran out into the sidewalk. Where he was headed Gold didn’t know or care, all he wanted was for Lacey to be safe.

He licked his lips and planted his cane before stepping away from the odorous garbage. “Lacey -”

“No!” she snapped, whirling on him. “Don’t you _fucking_ dare!”

“I was just - just trying to help you,” he said, reaching for her. He had an overwhelming need to touch her and make sure that she was all right, that the grimy bastard hadn’t harmed her, but she twisted away from him.

“I don’t need any _bloody_ saving!” she screamed, stepping forward to shove at him with both hands.

Gold scowled at her and came forward, grabbing her arm with his free hand and pushing her back. “He was hurting you!”

Lacey hissed and tried to pull herself free of his grasp, which was too hard and digging into her skin. “_You’re_ hurting me.”

He pressed closer as his grip relaxed slightly, letting his hand slide up to her shoulder and then the side of her neck. She swallowed, and he felt her throat flex beneath his palm, her pulse thrumming like his own and her skin so soft and warm despite the chilly winter air. His eyes settled on hers, dark and wide, and he remembered the first time he’d kissed her. She’d been in the Rabbit Hole when he'd gone in to collect rent from Keith, and a few of his degenerate friends. She was beating them at pool and taking all the money they should have been paying to him, and he couldn’t help watching the sway of her hips as she lined up her last shot.

He leered at her through two more rounds, and she did everything she could to tease him. As soon as they stepped outside, they were on each other, the tension that had been building for years finally giving way on a cool autumn evening.

“Move.”

Lacey’s voice was firm and sharp, but Gold didn’t waver. He inched forward, drawn in by the dark, angry glint in her eyes, and the heat between them that blocked out the chill. It had been too long since he’d touched her, and now that he had he didn’t want to stop. He loved her, then and now, and he’d been an absolute fool to ruin it the way he did, to pretend it was nothing and push her away. His heart had been a cold lump of coal for so long, but then one night he let her in, and her fire burned it all away, warming and reviving him from the inside out.

“Lacey,” he breathed, his hand slipping into her hair as he brought his mouth to hers.

“Liam, don’t.” She pushed at his chest again, her hands sliding inside his coat. “Do -”

Her words were cut off as he caught her lips with his, pressing her back against the brick wall. Their noses bumped together, their teeth scraping against each other, and she made a noise of protest even as her fingers curled into him, pulling at his clothes to keep him near.

He knew he should stop, that this was a mistake, but they were here, together, and she was kissing him almost desperately. He hadn’t realized until this moment how utterly alone he’d been, before and after Lacey French, and his chest burned with the need to tell her everything, to try to fix what he had so utterly broken.

* * *

The touch of Gold’s fingers sent sparks of electricity running down her spine, and she hated it.

She hated that he was here, that he’d kissed her, and most of all that she was kissing him back. It shouldn’t be happening, and she made her fingers open, her palms spreading to feel the solid heat of him as she pushed hard. He resisted and pushed back, his hand tightening in her hair, pulling until her scalp tingled. His tongue licked at her mouth, and she opened just enough to catch his bottom lip and bite down, hard.

He cried out and jerked away, and she tasted the sharp metallic flavor of blood.

Gold touched his lip, frowning as his fingertip came away tinged with red, and scowled at her. “What the hell?”

“Leave me alone!” she yelled, angry at herself more than with him. 

She should have walked away or kicked him in the balls like she’d been about to do with Keith before Gold cracked him over the head with his cane. She heaved herself off the wall and stumbled over the ice to the entrance of the alley.

“Lacey - don’t -” Gold panted for breath and shook his head. “I just want to talk.”

She turned around and exhaled, sending a puffy cloud up into the light of the street lamp. “About what? What is there to talk about anymore, Liam?”

He licked at his bloodied lip and then swallowed. “I - I love you.”

Lacey laughed. It was a flat, humorless sound, her mouth open, but not smiling. “Fuck you.”

“I do,” he insisted, stepping towards her. His cane wobbled and skidded on the snow that was beginning to freeze to the pavement. “_Please,_ just listen -”

“Listen to what?” she snapped. “Listen to you tell me that the whole time you were _humiliating_ me to Mayor Mills, or letting my father think I was _prostituting_ myself to you, that - that you were actually in _love_ with me? And instead of just fucking saying that out loud, you lied, and let everyone believe I was _nothing?!_”

To his credit, he winced and seemed to physically recoil at her words, but it didn’t make her feel better or believe him. He’d been a complete bastard to her, and half the reason she’d changed her life around to work the night shift at Granny’s had been to avoid people, avoid seeing the look in their eyes and their empty, plaintive words. He’d made her feel used and worthless, and it didn’t matter if she’d never gotten over him, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing any of that.

“I was wrong,” he managed. 

She took a step back, into the circle made by the beam from the street light, and shook her head. “Yeah, you were.”

He followed after her until they were both standing on the sidewalk in full view of anyone who wanted to look. “You’re not - you were never any of those things.”

Lacey glanced at the front of Granny’s and saw a few people in the windows, peering out at them. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, and she wished she’d just stayed at home instead of daring to attend the Christmas party. Ruby and Granny had been so convincing; they’d said it would be good for her to get out, but now she was just cold, bruised, and tired. Her head was starting to pound, and she wanted to shove Gold off the damn dock.

She blinked and felt something warm trail down her face. It took her a moment to realize she was crying, and she swiped her tears away angrily. “Just leave me alone.”

She spun on her heel and started off down the pavement, determined that the last word would be hers.

* * *

Gold’s heart was pounding furiously.

He had kissed Lacey for the first time in ages, touched her, and managed to get out the words he had been too weak to say when they most needed to be said. She wasn’t wrong about any of it, he had let everyone think the worst of her because it was easier than owning his own feelings. In the end, he thought he’d been right to do so, that his life and his heart held no place for someone like her, someone good and beautiful.

Of course she had rejected him. She had every right to, and he’d been a fool to think that his belated confession would make any difference.

The sound of Lacey’s shoes seemed to echo down the empty street, and his hand clenched his cane as his legs threatened to buckle. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he looked over at Granny’s to see Leroy and someone else staring out at him. He shot them a glare, and headed off across the street, back along the same path that had brought him to Lacey’s rescue only a few minutes ago.

His vision blurred as he approached his shop, and he all but collapsed against the door in his effort to open it. Inside, he stumbled forward and then dropped to his knees, palms slapping against the wood floor. A sob bubbled up out of him, but he clamped his mouth shut and sucked in a shaky breath through his nose as he fought the rest down.

Swallowing hard, he managed to push to his feet, his body heated from head to toe with pain and rage. In a flash, he spun around and lifted his cane, swinging the brass handle into the middle of the glass display case.

Shards rained down on his shoes, glittering in the low light, as he took two slow, deep breaths. His eyes closed and then opened, and he felt that telltale hollow, cold feeling in his chest.

* * *

Lacey’s feet were killing her by the time she made it home.

The house was dark and cold, and she went through the living room and the kitchen to the back where her bedroom was, turning every light on as she went. Shivering, she kicked off her heels, and dropped her coat on the floor, anxious to be out of her red dress. It had too many memories now, old and new, and none of them welcome anymore.

The cloth went up over her head, catching on her hair and making her hiss. The fabric smelled like Gold now, and she was tempted to shove it in the fireplace and watch it burn. She could follow it with the blue silk scarf and the shimmery black gown that he’d bought for her, piled all of it in there and let it be reduced to ash along with the last vestiges of her feelings for him.

_I love you._

She pulled roughly at her sparkly stockings, tearing them with her nails in her efforts to get them off, as if his words would go with them.

_I was wrong._

Her underwear and bra went next, falling to the floor with everything else on her way to the small bathroom across the hall. The faucet squeaked and old pipes groaned as they came to life, spitting the hottest water the aging water heater could manage into the tub. She stepped in carefully, and sank down against the white porcelain with a sigh.

_You were none of those things._

Her nails clawed at her legs, digging into the skin and leaving raw, red tracks that stood out against the other thing white lines at the tops of her thighs. The sting made her eyes tear up, and she quickly pulled her hands away, balling them into fists as she curled in on herself.

The water splashed down against her feet, the level rising steadily as she closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. She tried to force Gold from her mind as the heat of the water wrapped around her.


End file.
